


The Dead Stay Gone

by octoprincesa



Category: Mafia (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Mafia 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 07:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8437480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octoprincesa/pseuds/octoprincesa
Summary: Ella White has had her life turned upside down. When the Southern Union kills her mother, she has to work in a brothel to provide for herself and her baby brother. Never did she think Lincoln Clay would show up with guns blazing. First as a savior, then a client, & eventually as something more? [I don't own Mafia 3 or Lincoln Clay, only the characters I created.]





	1. The Worst Luck

If you would have told me a year ago that I’d find and fall in love with the most dangerous man in New Bordeaux, I would have laughed in your face. I’ve never looked for love. I never had the time for it. Exactly one year ago on September 7th 1967, I felt like I had a good life. Sure we were poor, but my momma had so much love to go around. She taught us to love and it was the most powerful lesson I would ever learn.

 

Living in the Hollow almost all my life, I felt safe. Well, as safe as black people could feel on the black side of town. We had no kin here, but everyone looked out for each other. My momma was the hardest working woman I’d ever known. My earliest memory is of her reading me books in the park on Sundays. Momma only ever had Sundays off.

 

 She worked as a cook everyday for the rich white folks in Frisco Fields. That was how I came to exist actually. I know exactly who my daddy is. He’s that racist asshole on the radio actually. You know, the one that hosts New Bordeaux’s favorite show, Native Son. Remy Duvall was the worst human being in the world to me. Momma just acted like he had never been born. If we’d hear an advertisement for his show on the radio, she would hum a tune to herself until it went away. I guess it was her way of coping with the trauma. I try my best not to think about him, but if he was to die one of these days, I definitely wouldn’t be hurt.

 

When I was 14 years old, Momma told me I was gonna have a little sibling. Now, I’ve never known who Harris’ daddy was, but it honestly didn’t matter to me. The day after she told me, I went to the library and checked out as many books as I could on babies. I was gonna be the best big sister anyone had ever seen. I read about how you should change a diaper, feed them a bottle, soothe them from crying, & everything else I could find. When Momma came home with a little bundle in her arms, the excitement I felt knew no bounds. Harris was a little brown-skinned angel. He slept on schedule, ate on schedule, & almost never cried. When Momma told me I was a little devil compared to Harris, I would stick my tongue out. She could be a jokester, but Harris and I always knew Momma loved us more than anything.

 

In school, I would read all the books I could get my hands on. The school for colored kids was and still is rundown and almost completely underfunded. But, one of the Catholic priests up in the French Ward would come and give us some of the books that got donated to him. Father James was the closest thing in New Bordeaux to a saint, I thought for some time. Not only did he run a soup kitchen that fed us on many occasions, but he gave the school in the Hollow help as well as running an orphanage for colored boys.

 

Now, I knew who Lincoln Clay was growing up. Him and Ellis were the class clowns when we were in school. They would play pranks on the teachers and get in trouble. But, it was usually good lighthearted fun. Sometimes the other kids would whisper about how Sammy Robinson wasn’t Lincoln’s real father. But, Ellis was always right there to make sure no one talked bad about his brother. They were very polite when Sammy or Perla was around. Sammy was a kind man, but definitely had a strict streak in him. Nonetheless, they were very loving people and when Sal Marcano did what he did, it hurt us deep.

 

*~*~*

 

Right before the massacre at Sammy’s, the Southern Union took my mother away from me. It was the spring of 1968, headed fast into summer, and times were tough. Momma was working even later hours in the kitchens up in Frisco Fields, so I had to take care of Harris most of the time. It didn’t bother me though; he would sit with me while I worked as a waitress in a local diner. I was working Monday through Saturday, just like Momma. Seeing as I was 20 years old, I figured I could contribute the same as her. In the evenings, Mr. Harry Robicheaux would come around looking for girls to work for him. I knew a lot of girls that ended up becoming prostitutes for whatever reason. I’ve always known how hard it is to survive, so I made it a point not to judge them. On May 12th, Mr. Robicheaux came in on a rainy day.

 

“Ella, baby, I know you ain’t making barely enough to support your whole family. I got a great gig up in the French Ward. I’ve been dying to hire an exotic looking babe like yourself…” He said with honey dripping from his voice. I rolled my eyes. Harry had been coming in for months trying to sweet talk me into working for him.

 

“As always, I appreciate your offer, Mr. Robicheaux. But, we aren’t that bad off,” I informed him as I refilled his coffee cup.

 

“Well, take my number, baby. My offer still stands if you ever get tired of workin’ in this old dump,” he said rudely. I gave him my best fake smile and went off to finish my shift. Around 8pm or so, I started to get worried. The chef had just made Harris his favorite dinner, home-style biscuits & gravy.

 

“Ella? When is Momma gonna get here? She’s an hour late,” Harris asked with gravy smeared all around his lips.

 

“She’ll be home soon, baby. You know Miss Lottie’s little car has been having some troubles,” I reminded my little brother. Miss Lottie was the gossipy older woman who lived across from us. She always had something to say, but her and Momma had been driving up to Frisco Fields for years together to go to work. Before we knew it, it was 9:30 pm. It wasn’t like Momma to be this late. Something was wrong. At 10 pm sharp, Johnny Peterson busted into the diner.

 

“Y’all! Come quick! It’s them Southern Union fuckers!” The dread I felt in my heart was indescribable. Time seemed to move at a snail’s pace. My legs seemed to carry me out into the street, as if they had a mind of their own. I remember seeing Miss Lottie, her left eye swollen, bloody, & black, trying to make sense of it all. Her maid’s uniform was torn and it was clear she had seen hell. I had heard the words: white hoods, steel pipes, knives & I knew. Momma was laying in the backseat of the car. She was covered in blood and wheezing; clinging to dear life and I couldn’t help but scream. I wailed as Harris hung onto my leg.

 

“Momma! NO! Momma, please! Hang on!!” I pleaded with her as I tried to assess the damage. I can never get the image of her blood coating my hands out of my mind. Her body was mangled beyond belief and her skin had been cut deep in too many places to count, too many to bear. Her body lay limply in the car and everyone crowded around me. I whipped my head around.

 

“Don’t just stand there! Do something! You can’t just let her die!!” As I wailed, Momma started to cough.

“Ella…Harris…” she muttered as blood trickled from her mouth. I grabbed her limp hand and brought it to my face. Her skin felt clammy and cold.

 

“Hang on, Momma. We’re gonna get you to the hospital!” I begged her. Her lips slowly curled into a smile as she looked at Harris and me for the last time, with all the love she had ever shown us, and that was it. At 11:20 PM on May 12th, 1968, Cora Lee White was pronounced dead. Harris & I were alone in the world. To this day, I’m trying to pay off Momma’s funeral, the hospital costs, our debt, & make sure Harris has a roof over his head. At the end of June, I picked up the phone and called Harry Robicheaux.


	2. Getting Started

With all the costs from Momma’s funeral and supporting Harris and I, working as a waitress wasn’t cutting it anymore. I had to make more money. And, there was only one way to do that.

Harry was over the moon when I called him. The next day, he had someone pick me up and bring me to the French Ward. Prostitution was illegal, but as everyone knew, Sal Marcano had all the cops in New Bordeaux in his pocket. As I walked in the brothel, all eyes were on me. I wanted to shrink down to the size of a mouse. The men leered at me and one even whistled. I had worn my best dress, that was unfortunately too small in the bust area.

“If that red-headed negro bitch moves her arms one bit, those titties gon’ pop right out!” One man chuckled to another. I put my purse over my chest and quickly ran up the stairs. Harry Robicheaux was on the phone, with his feet propped up on a huge wooden desk.

“I’ll have to call you back, Holden. Yeah. The new girl is here.” He gave me a sly wink as he got off the phone.  
“Ella, Ella, Ella…Ya know? My heart jumped for joy when you called me. I knew you’d come around eventually,” he said confidently.  
“Well, I need the money. I’m willing to do whatever I need to do…” I replied quietly.  
“I gotta see what I’m working with, babe. Lose the dress,” he demanded, although his eyes had already done it for me.  
“Really? I’m not so sure…” I hesitated, my eyes fixed on the shaggy carpet.  
“You want this job, right? I can promise you’ll make good money. It’s a 50/50 split. This ain’t one of those cheap places either,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the desk.  
“Lose…the dress.”  
It didn’t seem like I had much of a choice. I started to unbutton my dress and as it dropped to the floor, I could hear Harry inhale sharply. He walked up to me, his eyes inspecting me like I was livestock; he reached his hands out to touch me.

“Damn, Ella. Them titties and that ass are something every man in New Bordeaux goes to sleep dreamin’ about!” He laughed deeply and gave me a slap on the ass. I jumped, startled, and he laughed even harder.  
“You gotta tell me, baby. Are you a virgin? I can’t stop wondering,” I swallowed hard.  
“Y-Yes. I haven’t had sex with nobody,” I replied, and he jumped for joy.  
“Now you are gonna be the talk of the town, Ella. But, you need a working name. Ella’s too sweet for a working girl like you, and besides, we don’t want people diggin’ around fo’ you, do we?”  
My mind went blank as the reality of the situation hit me. I froze, and before I could answer--  
“How about Lola? I think that’ll work perfect for you, peach,” Harry said, picking my dress up and handing it back to me. I had had enough of Harry Robicheaux for one day, so I tacitly agreed.  
“Great! I’ll have someone pick you up tomorrow for your first day!” He said with a big smile. I mustered up the best smile I could and got dressed as fast as possible. I left almost without a word, and hurried straight home to Harris.

*

The next day, I came in and a beautiful dark skinned girl greeted me at the door.  
"Hi, baby. My name’s Lucy. Mr. Robicheaux asked me to show y’around and help ya out." She said with a genuine smile.  
"I…I didn't think he had any other negro girls working here. It's real nice to meet you," I told her shyly.  
"Aw! Ain't you precious! You ain't never done this kinda thing before, huh?" I shook my head ‘no’ and she sighed a deep sigh.  
"Look, I'm gon’ be straight with you. This job is about doin’ a lot of things you don't wanna do. If you wanna make money, you gotta transform yourself into someone else. Even if it's just for a night." She said sternly. It was like she had seen a million and one girls just like me come and go. I figured I would need to develop a sexy persona to be successful. A shy bookworm like myself wouldn’t make a good working girl.

Over the next few days, I learned how to give the best head a virgin possibly could. Some of the other girls let me sit in when their johns came by as a sort of learning exercise. I pretended like it was a book or a play I was reading come to life. I tried to emulate the sex appeal that Lucy and the other girls had so skillfully mastered. My auburn hair was curled like a movie star and I made sure to keep a light dusting of makeup on. Harry was waiting until the best paying customer came for me to sell off my virginity. I had already made $20, which was enough to buy groceries and new shoes for Harris.

I was also paying Miss Lottie a dollar each day to watch Harris after school. Everyone in the Hollow thought I had got a job as a nanny up in the French Ward. It explained the good money, late hours, & my exhaustion. I worried about Harris though. He was still a sweet boy, but he had gotten so quiet since Momma died. I was gonna ask Harry to give me a few days off each week, so I could spend more time at home. But, as the weekend approached, I had to be there at least on Saturdays. 

When the driver dropped me off on my first Saturday, Lucy was outside, like she had been waiting for me. She ran up to me as soon as I closed the car door.  
"Girl! We are getting some RICH bastards tonight!" She said, excitedly.  
"Who?" I inquired.  
She leaned in close and whispered, "Sal Marcano's son and his people!" My heart dropped into my stomach when I heard the Marcano name. I remember when Sal Marcano and his people killed everyone in Sammy's bar. Lucy and a lot of the other girls lived here at the brothel, so I wasn’t surprised that they hadn’t heard. We knew everyone had died, but they hadn't found Lincoln Clay's body. It was a tale going around now that he was a ghost. The kids on the block would say he was enacting his revenge from beyond the grave. I mourned Sammy and them in my own way, but I was busy trying to keep my own head above water.

"Harry went out and bought us a bunch of new lingerie. He said we have to look our best tonight." Lucy said while dragging me inside. The girls were all crowded around a clothes rack filled with all kinds of outfits. I pushed my way through and grabbed whatever I could. I ended up with a short sheer pink nightgown, adorned with some cute fuzzy pieces near the breast. I went back to my room and tried it on. As I looked at myself in the mirror, all I could think of was how ashamed Momma would be of me. I had to shake it out of my head. This is what my life was now; I had to play with the cards I’d been dealt. 

After getting dressed and settled, I heard a commotion downstairs. Lucy and I were in my room, sharing a reefer joint and trying to decompress before the long night ahead.  
"Come on down, girls! We're here to give you the night of your lives!!" A tipsy male voice rang out. Lucy quickly put out the joint and rushed to the mirror for a last-minute inspection.  
"You ready? Let's go!" She grabbed my hand and we rushed downstairs. We stood in our lineup and the men inspected us. Most of them were so drunk that they just took the girl closest to them. I was trying my best to not look at them, but the worst one stopped right in front of me.  
"Who do we have here? I don't think I've ever seen you befo’. I woulda remembered you..." Giorgi Marcano said to me, almost crooning. He looked me up and down, as though I were his prey.  
"Y-Yes. I'm new. Call me L-Lola," I said with all the confidence I could muster.  
"Well, Lola, I don't think I'm gon’ pass up this chance. Let's have a drink, baby!" He took my hand and led me over to one of the ornate couches. I poured him some whiskey and he smiled. If I didn't know the vile creature he was, I might have been charmed. As we sat down with our drinks, Harry came in.

"Gentlemen! I'm so honored you came to pay us a visit! Take a load off and enjoy the girls!" He exclaimed. I made eye contact with him and he rushed right over.  
"I see you've met my little peach, Lola! You've always been a man of good taste. Did you know she's still a virgin?" I blushed hard as soon as he told Giorgi my business.  
"Wowee, Harry! You know my type. Just how I like ‘em, innocent and thick as hell!" He laughed as he grabbed my thigh roughly. I attempted to give him a coy smile and it seemed to work.  
"You gonna show my girl a good time?" Harry winked suggestively at him. Giorgi gave him a sly smile and pulled out his wallet. My eyes went wide as I saw him pull out a crisp $50 bill. He handed it to Harry and I could see my boss almost salivating.  
"How about you show me yo’ room, babe?" Giorgi asked, leading me away from the parlor. My heart began to race and I tried to recall all the things that Lucy had taught me this week. Inside, almost as quickly as I had shut the door, he pinned me against the wall with both his arms. Before I could say anything, his lips were on mine and his tongue invaded my mouth. His hands moved to roam and began to grope my body. He ripped off the skimpy excuse for an outfit and grabbed my bare skin. I shivered and breathed in sharply.  
"Fuck, Lola. You drivin’ me fuckin' crazy!" He led my hand lower and lower and I got a handful of a rock hard erection. I took a deep breath and moved to get down on my knees. He muttered something quietly as I unbuckled his belt. I took as much of him into my mouth as I could. He tasted like sweat. I ran my tongue and lips up and down the length of his shaft. His legs shook a bit. I sucked the air from my mouth and took him into my mouth like a vacuum, and my eyes watered. I was hoping my makeup wouldn’t smudge. He grabbed onto my hair roughly and pulled me off of him. It hurt badly.  
"Goddamn, girl! Get on that fuckin' bed, I can't wait no longer!!" He exclaimed while pushing me down on the bed. His mouth latched onto one of my nipples and roughly kneaded the other. I moaned and tried to make all the sounds that the other girls made.  
"Oh, Giorgi…Please don't stop!" I said sounding as wanton as possible. He grabbed one of the condoms off the nightstand and tore the wrapper open with his mouth almost in a frenzy. The condom made a pop as he got it all the way on.  
"Get ready fo’ this. You ain't ever felt nothing this good befo’," He licked his hand as if his saliva was KY jelly, put his fingers in me, then thrusted himself in. I let out a cry. It hurt like nothing else had. I looked up at him and his eyes seemed to roll back into his head and he moved at a snail's pace. It really hurt. I tried to picture myself on a beach. A nice, tropical place where none of this was happening. Before I drifted away, I was interrupted.  
"Fuck, Lola…This might be some of da best pussy I ever had..." He captured my lips in a kiss and I tried to ignore the pain he was causing me. After a while, I hardly felt a thing. He moved me around in all sorts of different positions like his personal ragdoll. Then, finally, with me on my hands and knees, he finished. His legs shook and he cursed under his breath. I swear I could hear the devil in his voice. He took his sweet time cleaning up and getting dressed; maybe he wanted to look at me a little longer. We made a bit of small talk, but I really just wanted him to leave. On his way out, he cupped my face in his filthy hand and looked me dead in the eye.  
"I'm definitely gonna keep coming back fo’ you," he chuckled and winked. I gave him a small kiss. Lucy had taught me that, “Keeps them on the hook,” she had said. The moment he was gone, I almost sprinted to the toilet and puked my guts out.


	3. Changes

After Giorgi Marcano took my virginity, everything seemed to go downhill. Harry wasn't giving us 50% anymore. He gave us what he felt like any given day. He was also letting violent men into the brothel. Any decency he had was gone. All he could see was dollar signs. His greed had blinded him. Sal Marcano was sending all his unsavory business partners to us. We sweetened any deal tenfold. These men, we had to call them "VIPs", had sick and disgusting fantasies. They would tie us up, leave cuts and bruises on our skin, shove guns in our faces, spit on us. Back home, I did whatever I could to cover it all up. I used makeup, scarves, long coats and sweaters, anything to give the appearance of everything being fine.

But, Harris, that clever kid, could see right through me. Sometimes I caught him solving problems from my old math books. I was convinced that boy was a genius. He got straight As in school without even trying. Any spare moment I had, I tried to buy him nice things and spend time with him. Even so, he was becoming more and more closed off. It broke my heart that I couldn't be there more. I remember one Friday morning I had made him breakfast and he wouldn't eat.

                                                                                                                                           ~~~

"Harris, baby. Please eat," I pleaded with him. He continued to look down at the hot stack of pancakes I had made for him.  
"Ella... Why can't you stay here? It's Friday. Your job has to let you have some time off!" His small voice raised and I was left speechless for a second.  
"I have to work, Harris. The mister and missus are going out for a boat ride on the bayou. I have to watch after the little ones," His gaze was unwavering.  
"Can I come with you then?" He asked. It felt like someone had stuck a dagger through my heart. I promised myself that ever Harris would never be subject to my work. I'd never even let him get close to the brothel.  
"Baby, I promise you. Soon, I’ll take a day off and we will do anything you want, okay?" I pleaded with him and he sighed.

He looked at me dejectedly and gave me a slight nod. I knew he was upset, but there wasn't much I could do. I finished getting him ready for the day and saw him off to school. Little did I know then, that day was going to change my life. The bus sped away on its route, and as it turned the corner, right on time, the driver arrived to take me to the French Ward. When I got to my room, Lucy busted in looking furious.

"Those sick fucking VIPs are coming in tonight. I can't believe this. The last time they came in, the fucker cut a huge gash in my thigh! I still have a fucking scar," She told me, pacing quickly and smoking a cigarette. Anxiety pierced my whole body as I thought about the last time they came. Last month, the wealthy businessmen had paid us all a visit. The john I had seen kept a gun pointed at me the whole time he was in me. It was terrifying and I was dreading it happening again.

When all the girls were ready, we went down for our usual lineup. The same sadistic fuck from last time picked me and led me back to my room. Despair was lingering throughout my body, but there was something in the air. It felt like something was going to go down. As soon as I was naked in my room, the VIP put a nasty-looking pig mask before moving to blindfold me.

“I want you to plead for your life.” he had said. “Call..me..daddy”, he demanded.  
My stomach churned as I played along with sick fantasy. It felt as though my soul had left my body for a long while, my brain was following a script, and I was far away. His hands began to slowly coil around my throat, cutting off my air. I let it happen. I could feel the blood rushing to my face and I struggled to breathe as he started whispering even viler things in my ear, his breath hot and wet and slimy.

Suddenly, gunshots rang out. The VIP stopped and loosened his grip giving me a chance to get free and push him away from me. I took a breath of air like my lungs had never felt it before, until more shots sounded in quick succession. Some of the girls screamed shrilly. I could hear heavy footsteps and bodies hitting the floor. The VIP grabbed his gun, but it was too late. A thick, black combat boot kicked the door in and a well placed bullet smacked him right between the eyes. Time seemed to freeze as I caught my breath, and my eyes turned to see my savior. I knew who he was in an instant. He had that wild look in his eyes I had seen before. It took a second, but we made eye contact. One of his eyebrows raised and my jaw dropped a little.

"Lincoln Clay...?!"


End file.
